


Kindred Spirits

by TheDuckofIndeed



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 11:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18151565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDuckofIndeed/pseuds/TheDuckofIndeed
Summary: After waiting for thousands of years to finally meet the only other of his kind, Ghirahim is rather delighted to finally be given the chance to speak to his opposite one day when Link is busy in the Silent Realm. It's just a shame Fi turns out to not be the best person to have a conversation with.





	Kindred Spirits

**Author's Note:**

> Another story I originally published on fanfiction.net back in 2014, back when I was in a Ghirahim phase.

It was just another sunny day in Faron Woods, but the same could not be said of Ghirahim’s mood as he strolled through the forest, all wildlife gone silent upon his passing, a fact he hardly took notice of, however, as he currently had far more distressing matters vying for his attention right now. It was bad enough that the Sky Child had recently subdued his Master when the Demon King had broken free of his sealing spike, but that was one thing the Demon Lord could bear. After all, his Master had been imprisoned for thousands of years, and his most faithful servant already had a rather ingenious plan to go about freeing the Demon King, a plan he had recently come so very close to fulfilling, making his Master’s recent defeat only a minor setback in the Demon Lord’s master plan.

What was most frustrating, however, was the fact that the goddess, that precious girl whose soul would be the perfect sacrifice to resurrect his Master…he could hardly even think about what had happened, it was so offensive to him, but it was something he just couldn’t get out of his mind, because not long ago, the goddess and her dog of a servant escaped from his grasp through the Gate of Time, destroying the portal just after and effectively making his acquisition of her in this time all but impossible. She was now safe, thousands of years in the past, far beyond his reach, and he _would_ have had her if that horrid boy in green hadn’t intervened at the most inconvenient time.

That boy was really starting to become a problem. How abhorrent it was to think that if he had just slaughtered that worm when he had the chance, the goddess would be his right now, and his Master would have been returned to him. But, Ghirahim couldn’t be faulted for maintaining his dignity and not murdering an inexperienced whelp during their first meeting, even when he could have so easily done so. There were plenty of chances to undo his mistake in the future. His rare bouts of mercy were a character flaw he still needed to work on.

Nevertheless, despite this most unexpected turn of events, that certainly didn’t mean he had failed, for the Demon Lord was resilient, and he would just have to find another way to make that girl his. And so that’s exactly what he had been seeking, for a way to reach her in the time she had fled to. Perhaps there was another Gate of Time out there somewhere. Or maybe those Timeshift Stones the robots (what an insolent bunch _they_ had been; it pleased him to no end that they had all rusted long ago) had dug up in Lanayru Desert could be of some use to him. The Demon Lord had even gone so far as to seek out the existence of ancient magic that might allow him to create another portal into the past or to repair the one that had been destroyed. That last idea seemed the least likely of all, but he wasn’t going to leave any stone unturned, as the saying went. He certainly hadn’t waited thousands of years only to give up.

The Demon Lord’s thoughts, as well as his footsteps, were halted when something brought him out of his musings, for he sensed something up ahead, by the Great Tree, that had piqued his innate curiosity. Two things, actually, but one more so than the other. The Sky Child was over there, the very one who had become quite a thorn in his side as of late, and one other, his sword. Or to be more precise, the _spirit_ of his sword.

Ghirahim had long known of the existence of another of his kind, and while his heart ached to meet her, she had, until recently, been far beyond his reach, resting for the last several millennia up in Skyloft, one of the few places he couldn’t go. And while he was not exactly the type to grow lonesome, as he was the best company he could ever hope to have, it was disheartening to know that, in the entire world, there was only one other in existence like him, but they were hopelessly separated. She was his opposite. She was created to counteract him, the goddess’s weapon to oppose the Demon King’s, but it mattered little to him, as they were both simply serving their respective sides, and he couldn’t fault her for the purpose chosen for her. All that mattered was that she was a sword spirit, just as he was, and after all these millennia spent watching the sky and longing for the day he would finally speak to someone that would understand him in a way his Master never could, it sent a giddiness through him that made him all but forget his current worries.

The scowl his face bore for most of the day (that he couldn’t drop no matter how many times he reminded himself prior that such an expression didn’t do his stunning face justice) was at last replaced by a grin, and he giggled at the thought of how his desire to speak to a being his near-equal was soon to be fulfilled. He teleported with a snap of his fingers to the tree line, but what he saw made him furrow his brow (how grateful he was that he couldn’t develop wrinkles), his smile dropping as he tried to surmise a logical explanation for what he was seeing. There was the Goddess Sword, sure enough (she really ought to think of getting that name changed), thrust into the ground, and beside her was the goddess’s pet, just lying there. Humans were indeed a primitive lot, but it seemed rather strange to just fall asleep in the middle of the woods when he should be out fulfilling whatever nonsense the goddess had chosen for him. Plus, he was quite certain humans were diurnal creatures. This one didn’t seem particularly bright, however.

He shrugged and stepped away from the cover of the trees to stride into the clearing where rested the Goddess Sword and the apparently slumbering boy, assuming the most regal demeanor he could, which was simple for someone with his flawless looks. As he neared the two, the Sky Child certainly appearing to be fast asleep, he was stopped in his tracks when the other sword spirit materialized before him, hovering a short distance above the ground.

“I cannot let you near my Master,” the other spirit said, her voice most melodious and yet, at the same time, strangely devoid of emotion. “It would be best if you left.”

Though he had seen her in the past, on the occasions where he would watch the Sky Child’s various struggles for the pure amusement it gave him, it had always been from afar, and it was only now that he was finally able to get a good look at his opposite. Ghirahim’s eyes surveyed every inch of her, confirming that she did indeed have a most lovely form, not as perfect as he, but still beautiful. Such a delicate face. And slender legs.

Unperturbed by her less-than-friendly manner, he merely smiled, resisting the urge to lick his lips, as such a gesture could be considered rather impolite on one’s first meeting. No, that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly at all. He rose a hand to smooth the edge of his long bangs between thumb and forefinger, taking on a casual air that he could only hope would persuade her to be a bit more…polite the next time she addressed him.

“So, you are the spirit of the Goddess Sword, I presume. Though we have technically already met, we have yet to engage in the simple pleasures of mere conversation. However,” he raised a hand to his chest, “I seem to be at a disadvantage, for I don’t yet know your name.”

“The ‘name’, as you call it, given to me by the goddess is Fi.”

“Fi, is it? A lovely name.” His gaze turned upward, and he lifted an elegant hand to gesture overhead. “It is a most pleasant day, is it not?”

“I am uncertain what bearing you intend the weather to have on our current conversation, but I do predict a mere 5% chance of rainfall in the near future.”

Ghirahim lowered his hand to his chin, chuckling. “Yes, most pleasant indeed. It’s nice to see we already agree on something.” He turned and began a casual stroll to his right to make a wide circle around the sleeping boy, leaving Fi with no other choice but to drift over the ground to move along with him if she wanted to keep herself between her Master and the Demon Lord.

“And seeing as it is such a nice day,” he continued, “I decided it would be most relaxing to take a simple stroll. You see, ruling the Surface can be rather tiring, and so on occasion, I need some time where I can just be left to myself and my thoughts. To…unwind, so to speak.” When she failed to respond, he gestured to her Master with one delicate motion. “Does he normally do this? What I mean is, does he normally make a habit of taking a nap in the dirt? In broad daylight?”

“I really must insist that you leave. As you are a servant of the Demon King, and I of the goddess, it is most improper for us to speak to each other, and it serves no purpose in the completion of our respective goals.”

Ghirahim’s circling stopped as he turned to face her again, and he tossed his hair, his tone dropping as his smile vanished from his pale face. “I don’t know if you realize it, but you are being quite rude. I came here for no other reason but to speak to you, and the least you can do is be civil.”

“I sense a 96% chance that your reasoning for coming here is not entirely truthful, and as I said before, I do not wish to continue this conversation, nor do I see the purpose it serves.”

He sighed. “Must _everything_ have a purpose?”

“It is most efficient that way, yes.”

“Haven’t you ever done anything for the mere pleasure it gives you?”

“I cannot feel emotion, so no, I have not.”

He drew back in feigned horror, as if her…affliction might be contagious. “None?”

“No,” she repeated.

What a miserable existence _that_ must be. Or not, he supposed, as it didn’t seem she could feel misery in the first place. It was most fortunate that _humans_ had the capacity for such things, at least, or else how could he ever have the delight of inflicting it upon them? He inwardly cringed at such a depressing thought.

“But, isn’t it boring?” he asked.

“I am also incapable of feeling boredom, which, if I understand correctly, is fortunate, as from what I have learned from my databanks, it is apparently an undesirable state to be in.”

“But, not _all_ emotions are unpleasant,” Ghirahim said, his voice rising just as the grandiosity of his gestures increased to match as he spread his arms wide to the sky. “In fact, most of them are quite wonderful. They may not serve any real purpose, but life would be so dull without them.” He drew his arms back to himself, facing skyward, as he continued, “The lust for battle and the thrill of crushing one’s opponent, not to mention the pleasure their cries for mercy give me. Without such emotions, I might as well be dead.” The back of his hand met his forehead in a most theatrical fashion. “My purpose gives my existence meaning,” he said as he lowered his arm back down to his side, “but my emotions are what make life worth living.”

His speech at an end, the tension in his body that came from the passion of his words slipped away as he returned his attention to the other sword spirit, who appeared to be, as expected, completely unmoved by anything he had just said. He blew at his bangs as he took note of the fact that she was still staring at him with the same expressionless look on her face that she had maintained throughout their entire conversation thus far. After he had expended such effort on one of his monologues, the least she could do was have the decency to _feign_ some semblance of interest. But, no, what would be the _point_?

And before she had the chance to say just that, as he knew she would, he vanished, only to reappear beside the sleeping form of her Master, and he knelt down as she twirled about to face him.

“Is he dead?” Ghirahim asked as he reached down to pull back one of the boy’s eyelids with his thumb. “Because I’m starting to doubt he’s simply asleep.”

“Please refrain from touching my Master,” Fi said as she drifted closer. “His spirit is simply separate from his body, as he is completing one of the goddess’s trials in the Silent Realm, and I ask that you do not harm him while he is vulnerable.”

The Demon Lord looked up at her, one eye covered by his bangs, though his hair was unable to hide the obvious grin his face bore. “And what, might I ask, would you do to stop me?” Without waiting for an answer, he chuckled and rose to stand tall again. “There is no need to fret, my dear Fi. I don’t kill my enemies in their sleep. It is far less entertaining that way. Plus, I am an honorable demon,” he said, striding back in her direction with purposeful steps, his head held high. “Even though, I must say, I am quite tempted to take advantage of such an opportunity as this, as I am still rather distraught about what your Master did just the other day.” He stopped before the other sword spirit and gazed down at her as she continued to watch him with the same emotionless expression. “You _do_ remember what he pulled in Lanayru Desert, don’t you? _And_ outside the Sealed Temple?”

“Yes, I do recall the events you are referring to.”

“And speaking of which,” he turned his head to gaze to the right, raising one hand in an offhand manner, “I have been quite busy, ever since your Master had the nerve to become involved in matters in which he had no business in, searching for a way to reach the goddess.” The fingers of his hand closed as his face made a slow turn back to her, eyes half-lidded. “And so I might as well ask, you wouldn’t happen to know of a way I can go to the past, would you?” His hand shot out to grab her by the chin, and he leaned forward to better look into her pupil-less eyes. “Because, unless I’m mistaken, I see a secret hidden behind those lovely azure eyes of yours, and I think it’s most impolite to keep secrets. It has a way of making people feel…left out.”

Though she grew stiff at his touch, Fi met his gaze; it was quite admirable, really, and said in response, “I cannot lie, therefore I must admit that I do have the knowledge of what you seek stored in my databanks. However, I am in no way obligated to divulge that information to you, nor would it be prudent.”

“You do know it will cause me great distress if you don’t.”

“Your emotional well-being has no bearing on my given purpose.”

He pursed his lips and released her, and though the humor he had shown earlier was now absent from his pale face, he only shrugged and turned away from her to take slow steps back in the direction of her sword and Master, as if the issue had already been forgotten. “No matter. I will only punish your Master more severely for your lack of cooperation.” He stopped once he had reached her sword and turned back to her. “Once the goddess is mine, of course.”

“I predict an 89% chance my Master will be waking soon, and so, as I have been reiterating since our conversation began, I ask that you leave now before there is any trouble.”

“What are _you_ so worried about?” He chuckled at a secret joke. “Don’t you know that _you_ were actually created to counteract _me_?” His face took on a mocking innocence, eyebrows raised. “It seems _I_ should be the one afraid of _you_.”

“You seem to be mistaken. I was created by the goddess to guide my Master.”

He giggled as his smile returned wider than ever. “It seems the goddess keeps secrets, as well….”

“And I find it quite egotistical,” she continued, “to believe I was created to counteract you, whatever you are, but based on my past analysis of your personality, such a sentiment is not entirely unexpected.”

“It’s not egotistical if it’s true.”

“Then, explain to me, what do you mean by such a statement?”

Interest in her seemingly forgotten, his attention turned next to the Goddess Sword beside him, his gaze shifting only once to the still sleeping boy, and he extended a hand and ran one finger down the sword’s grip. “Oh, it’s not important.”

“Do…do not touch me.”

His eyes shot back over to the other spirit. It seemed _something_ could elicit a reaction out of her, after all. His gaze returned to the Goddess Sword, and he continued as if she had said nothing, his caress running up the grip of her sword again, less gently this time. “All that matters is reviving the Demon King and nothing more. And if you stay out of my way, no harm has to befall your precious Master.” Ghirahim glanced up to find she had appeared before him, her sword the only thing between the two of them.

“And why do you want to revive the Demon King?” she asked.

He withdrew his hand from her sword, finger still extended, as he watched her from behind the bangs that still hung in his face. “Why do you wish to serve the Sky Child?”

“Because he is my Master, chosen for me by the goddess.”

“Well, then, why did the _goddess_ choose him?”

“Responding to a question with another question is most inefficient. Please respond to my inquiry with a statement.”

Ghirahim’s gaze dropped back down to the Goddess Sword, and he brushed the cross guard with one hand, just a gentle touch, and he thought he could sense actual discomfort emanating from the other sword spirit. “This is quite a fine sword. It’s a shame you don’t have the capacity to appreciate it.”

Before she could react, he stepped around the Goddess Sword and closed the distance between them, their noses almost touching, and his voice grew soft, but not just because of their proximity to each other. “You know, I’ve heard of the existence of another such sword. Oh, it’s supposed to be quite powerful. And beautiful, as well.”

“You seem to be implying you know who this sword is.”

“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying I heard of another, that’s all.” He raised a hand, his fingertips nearly brushing the glossy blue steel that was her hair, but he refrained from touching her, no matter how much he desired to do so, though he couldn’t resist running his long tongue over his lips. “You will be quite beautiful when you’re complete, as well.” And if only she had emotions as he did, she would _truly_ be something.

She drew back just the smallest degree, and while he could think of _several_ reasons for why she might do this, he couldn’t be certain which one it was.

“How do you know that I am incomplete?”

He withdrew his hand, his fingers curling back into his palm. “I just know these things. I know far more than you realize, my dear Fi.”

“I am not your Fi. And you really must leave. I am 99% certain my Master will awaken soon.”

He leaned in closer, even when he knew full well she would drift backwards out of his reach, and he straightened as she addressed him again.

“Ghirahim?”

“Yes?”

“What are you?”

He sighed. “I’m disappointed you haven’t figured that out yet. I would have expected more from the goddess’s handiwork. But, you will find that _I_ enjoy keeping a few secrets of my own, as well, some of which I just might reveal to you. In due time, of course.” And he raised a hand to snap his fingers, and he was gone.


End file.
